Keeping Heart: The Lost Tale of Boromir
by ArwendeImladris
Summary: Slash. Boromir/Harry. The Steward-prince of Gondor finds his heart in the glade of his private gardens. Now he will do anything to keep Harry safe and by his side.
1. Prologue: Finding His Heart

**Title**: Keeping Heart: The Lost Tale of the Last Steward-Prince of Gondor

**Rating: M**

**Warnings**: Sexual situations.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Summary**: HP/LoTR Crossover. Slash. Boromir/Harry. The Steward-prince of Gondor finds his heart in the glades of his private gardens. Now he will do anything to keep him.

**Author's Note**: Boromir was born in T.A. 2978, making him 32 years old.

**P.S. **I am really trying something new here, so let me know what you think, please! The good, the bad, the ugly…Reviews really inspire me and help me improve my writing.

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Prologue: Finding His Heart

_Minas Tirith, Kingdom of Gondor  
15__th__ of June, T.A. 3010_

Boromir was passing through the halls of his castle, finally heading back to his quarters after long months of battle. He had led yet another successful campaign against the Dark Lord's forces, and he was glad for the return home.

Boromir entered his chamber tiredly, finding everything just how he had remembered it. The Man grinned.

It was good to be home.

Boromir dropped his clothes to the floor, throwing himself gracelessly upon his comfortable bed.

He was too tired to sleep.

The dark-haired Man sighed, pulling on a light dressing robe before exiting through the door that led to his private gardens. Looking at the stars often helped him relax…

The moon was large and full, hanging overhead. It illuminated the beauty of his gardens, though perhaps it would be more accurate to say it was a forest. Though there were many flowers and a small pond, Boromir preferred the large grouping of oak trees that dominated the land. The castle had been built around these old trees, setting aside this area for a garden simply because it would be a sin to destroy such beauty of nature.

Boromir walked into the small woods, knowing the way by heart. He and Faramir had spent a lot of time in their youth exploring this tiny forest, and Boromir wished to think at the banks of the small glade that inhabited the center.

As the trees got a little sparser and the small clearing that housed the glade came into view, Boromir stopped dead in the tracks. There was someone bathing in the glade…

Beautiful, pale skin glowed beneath the moonlight while rivulets of water streamed down a lithe back. Dark, dark hair, black as the midnight sky, gleamed underneath the starlight. A low, musical humming sound filled the glade as the nimble form dipped below the surface of the clear water, coming back up with a moan of such pure satisfaction that Boromir wondered how he was not kneeling in sheer want of the being before him.

The steward-prince of Gondor took a step forward to get a closer look, but the sound of a twig snapping underfoot loudly filled the quiet glade.

The figure whirled to face him, and Boromir got his first glance at pale, delicate features.

They were twisted in worry and fear.

"Shh," the Man soothed. "I do not wish to hurt you. I only wish to know what you are doing in my private gardens."

Gorgeous green, green eyes gleamed in fright and panic.

"Captain-General," the musical voice began as he scrambled to get out of the glade. "I am so sorry. I…I tend to the gardens, and sometimes I come to the glade for some private time. I deeply apologize for invading your personal space. It shall not happen again."

Boromir allowed his eyes to wander the tempting figure as a loose white tunic was pulled onto still-wet skin. It stuck translucently to pretty pink nipples, pebbled from the cooler night air.

"And what if I wish for it to happen again?" Boromir questioned.

Green eyes opened wide.

"I…Captain-general," the youth began hesitantly. "I…do not know what you mean."

The beauty was obviously uncertain and nervous, each emotion plainly seen on the beautifully expressive features.

"Let us begin by exchanging names," Boromir stated plainly. "I am Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor. I am Captain of the White Tower and High Warden of the White."

Green eyes stared at him searchingly, as if determining whether Boromir was mocking him.

"I am Harry," he stated plainly, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

"Just Harry?" Boromir questioned.

"Just Harry," the beauty nodded. "I am a servant in the castle, and it is my duty to tend to your gardens. I am sorry for disturbing your peace, my steward-prince."

"I know a way for you to make it up me," Boromir replied, gently catching a delicate wrist in his hand as Harry moved to brush by him out of t he glade.

"Whatever you wish, Captain," the beauty murmured, averting his eyes deferentially.

"We can begin with you always looking me in the eye with those pretty green orbs," Boromir murmured, placing his large, tan hand under the delicate curve of Harry's pale chin and tilting those green eyes up to meet his own grey.

"Yes, Captain," Harry replied, gazing at him nervously.

Boromir smiled at the formality.

"And I wish for you to call me Boromir in private," he stated. "And I will call you Harry."

"I…that would be improper," was the shy response. "You are the Steward-prince."

"And if the Steward-prince wishes to be called by his first name by the most beautiful person he has ever laid eyes on, then that is his prerogative, no?" the much taller Man whispered.

"I…" Harry began, blushing at the implication of the larger Man's words. "I am not beautiful."

Boromir looked at him incredulously, sensing that he was not being coy and truly believed his words.

"I believe you are," he reassured. "Have you been outside the walls of Minas Tirith?"

"No, B-Borimir," Harry answered.

"I have," the Steward-prince replied. "I have seen much of Middle-Earth in my travels and battles. I have seen Men and Elves and Hobbits and Dwarves. But I would be content to remain here forevermore if I could just continue gazing upon your fair face."

It was clear that Harry did not know how to respond to that. His fingers played with the frayed edge of the tunic that hung near his knees.

"D-do you wish for…" the beauty began, clearly frightened. "S-should I remove my clothes, my prince?"

Boromir blinked in shock. Harry must have taken his silence for assent, as he began to lift the edge of his tunic.

Boromir stopped him with a light touch upon his wrist.

"Is this not what you want, my prince?" Harry whispered brokenly. "My aunt says that if one of the nobles or the family of the Steward…I am yours to do as you bid."

"She orders you remove your clothes if one compliments your beauty?" Boromir snarled, upset at the thought of this shy youth being **forced**…

"It has not happened before, but she says that it may be expected of me, now that I am a bit older," Harry replied. "I…I am usually good at avoiding being seen."

"How old are you?" Boromir questioned gently.

"This summer will be my seventeenth," was the answer.

The Steward-prince of Gondor nodded.

"I shall have you re-assigned as my personal servant and moved in the chambers adjacent to my own," he stated firmly. "No other shall touch you."

Wide emerald eyes met Boromir's grey.

"I…I do not understand," the beauty admitted.

"You owned me from the moment your beautiful green eyes spotted me between the trees," Boromir murmured. "And I shall have to keep my heart safe."

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**Author's Note**: So I think this is going to become a WIP, though shorter and probably much slower to update than My Warriors, My Beloveds. Let me know what you think…

And please go check out my forums and vote in my polls. Reader feedback really keeps my muse going! *bakes brownies* *offers to reviewers and forumers and voters*

**P.S.** Jukka – this is an early birthday present! You wanted Boromir/Harry - you got Boromir/Harry. I hope you like it!


	2. Honor

**Title**: Keeping Heart: The Lost Tale of Boromir

**Rating: M**

**Warnings**: Sexual situations.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Summary**: HP/LoTR Crossover. Slash. Boromir/Harry. The Steward-prince of Gondor finds his heart in the glades of his private gardens. Now he will do anything to keep Harry safe and by his side.

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Chapter 1: Honor

_Minas Tirith, Kingdom of Gondor  
15__th__ of June, T.A. 3010_

Harry slunk nervously behind Boromir as the Steward-prince led him into his private chambers. The larger Man left him near the bed, going over to the wardrobe to pick out a clean, dark shirt.

The servant looked curiously around the elegant room, purposely avoiding the large bed at his side. He did not want to think of what might be expected of him upon that bed, for all the Steward-prince's passionate declarations otherwise.

"This may be more comfortable for sleeping," Boromir stated as he held out his dark shirt.

"I…am going to sleep in here?" Harry asked, disappointed at being proven right about the larger Man's motivations.

"Just for tonight," Boromir reassured. "Until I can get the adjoining rooms readied. I shall sleep on the floor."

Harry looked at him incredulously.

"It is your bed. I shall sleep in the servants' quarters, as usual," Harry replied, trying to hand the shirt back.

Boromir shook his head firmly.

"No," he denied. "I am not going to leave you on your own to be taken advantage of."

"I am not a woman!" the smaller Man muttered sullenly. "I can take care of myself."

"Well, then you will not mind me sleeping in the bed with you, will you? If you can take care of yourself?" the Steward-prince challenged, sure that the shy youth would refuse to share a bed.

Harry glanced quickly at the large bed, and then averted his eyes back to the floor.

"It is certainly big enough for two," he replied bravely.

Boromir blinked in shock. He had not expected Harry to meet his challenge.

It was entirely better for him, to lie besides that beautiful being on his comfortable bed, rather than on the rough floor.

But he refused to take advantage of the situation.

He was an honorable Man, and Boromir would not take what Harry was reluctantly offering until his heart truly wanted it.

But that did not mean he could not tease the beauty a bit.

So the Steward-prince slipped his dressing robe off nonchalantly, purposely flexing his muscles as he climbed naked onto the bed and slid between silk sheets, covertly watching as Harry flushed deliciously and purposefully averted his eyes.

"Well?" Boromir prompted.

Green eyes glared at him defiantly once Boromir's tan skin was covered, and Harry pulled off his damp tunic in one smooth motion.

It was impossible for Boromir not so stare as all that smooth, creamy skin was revealed, and his grey eyes roamed hungrily before the dark shirt drifted down to cover Harry.

It filled the Steward-prince of Gondor with a strong sense of satisfaction to see his shirt on the raven-haired beauty. The bottom of the hem fell a few inches above Harry's knees, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of taut thighs.

"Hmmph," Harry huffed at his staring, growing uncomfortable at the searing gaze.

If the Steward-prince wanted it so much, why did he not just take it? Why go through all the trouble of appearing as a gentleman?

Boromir tore his eyes up to meet Harry's with some difficulty.

"Are you going to get in?" the larger Man questioned, eyes caught as the dark shirt gaped to reveal one creamy shoulder.

He loved the way the dark material contrasted with the paleness of Harry's skin.

Boromir looked down at the red silk sheets. Perhaps he should get them replaced with black?

He was startled out of his thoughts as Harry nervously slid beneath the covers on the opposite side of the bed. The emerald eyes were locked anxiously on the tented blanket that covered his partially-hard erection.

"I am not going to force you to do anything," Boromir comforted, turning on his side to hide the evidence of his arousal.

"I…you would not have to force me," Harry replied. "I am your servant to do with as you wish."

Boromir frowned.

"You are allowed to refuse me," the Steward-prince assured him.

Harry looked disbelieving.

"Not without severe repercussions," he muttered angrily. "You have absolute power. You could have me removed from the castle if you so wished. And then where would I go?"

"You would not be thrown out for refusing another's advances," Boromir stated.

The servant shook his head. The Man did not wish to see the truth.

But what would Boromir know about the reality of being a servant? He was the Steward-prince of Gondor; the favored son of the Man who ruled the country. If he did not wish to do something, he did not have to do it.

But Boromir would not be dissuaded from the argument.

"You are allowed to say 'no' if another insists on sexual relations, no matter his station. No matter what your aunt has told you," he insisted.

"I would not fight you, if you wished it of me," Harry replied. "And I know you do. Why do you not just take what you want?"

"Do you want it as well?" Boromir challenged.

Harry was uncertain how to respond. If he said 'yes' then he would most certainly be losing his innocence that night. If he said 'no' – maybe he would lose worse.

The Steward-prince sighed at the uncertain look that passed over those beautiful features. That was an unfair question to ask…

"I would not fight you," Harry stated again.

"I would not have you lay back and think of Gondor," Boromir declared. "It would not be honorable to take advantage of your position. I will not touch you until you want it as much as I do, my heart."

"And if I never do?" Harry dared ask.

"I am confident in my abilities to persuade you otherwise," Boromir purred with a rakish grin.

Harry blinked once, and then blushed crimson. His own response was to turn on his side near the very edge of the bed, his back to Boromir.

Boromir wanted to reach out and stroke that pale neck, tangle his hands in that silky black hair, run his broad hands down that smooth back…but he restrained himself.

He was an honorable Man.

So the Steward-prince of Gondor simply pushed down his lust, blew out the bedside candle, and slipped off to sleep, dreaming of the beauty that lies beside him.

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**Author's Note**: Please, please, please: go check out my forums and vote in my polls. Reader feedback really keeps my muse going! *bakes brownies* *offers to reviewers and forumers and voters*

**P.S.** Jukka – this is an early birthday present! You wanted Boromir/Harry - you got Boromir/Harry. I hope you like it!


	3. Trust

**Title**: Keeping Heart: The Lost Tale of Boromir

**Rating: M**

**Warnings**: Sexual situations. Language.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Summary**: HP/LoTR Crossover. Slash. Boromir/Harry. The Steward-prince of Gondor finds his heart in the glades of his private gardens. Now he will do anything to keep Harry safe and by his side.

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Chapter 2: Trust

_Minas Tirith, Kingdom of Gondor  
16__th__ of June, T.A. 3010_

Harry blinked open sleepy green eyes, stiffening as he felt strong, heavy arms around his waist and a warm, hard body pressed tight against him.

He could feel something hard poking the small of his back, and the green-eyed servant doubted that Boromir had his sword in bed with him.

At least, not his metal one.

So Harry lay completely still in the tight embrace, mind racing and unsure what to do.

He was not sure whether to risk slipping out of the bed. The Steward-prince had not given him permission to do so, and Harry did not think he could get up without waking the Man behind him, anyway.

He did not want to be punished if Boromir was truly misleading him about his ability to say 'no' without repurcussion. He truly had nowhere to go if he was thrown out of the castle.

So Harry remained still and let the sleeping Man do as he would, though every instinct in his body was urging him to squirm out of that tight grip and run far, far away.

Preferably after he removed that hard shaft pressing so tightly against him.

Boromir shifted behind him, murmuring nonsensically in his ear. The larger Man pressed sleepy, sloppy kisses to Harry's sensitive nape, and the servant pushed back his tears.

He was resolved to bear this with dignity. He would not allow the Steward-prince to witness his pain and humiliation at being forced to...

He knew the declarations of love and protection had been too good to be true. How could he have been so stupid as to trust this Man?

The Man who was now rubbing that hard shaft against him through only the thin material of his shirt. Harry was not wearing anything underneath the shirt, and Boromir was not wearing anything at all.

The Steward-prince would only have to push Harry onto his stomach, and raise his shirt up a bit, and he could…

Harry held back a sob, telling himself that it would be over soon enough, and he would be left to pick up the pieces on his own…

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Boromir was having the most wonderful dream. He was kissing the elegant curve of a neck, and he could feel his release approaching as he rubbed sensuously against a delicious warmth.

Grey eyes fluttered open, and the Man stopped his movements immediately as soon as his mind reached consciousness, no matter how his body protested.

"Harry?" Boromir murmured softly, praying the beauty in front of him was somehow still asleep.

"My p-prince," came the shaky reply.

"I apologize," the larger Man stated, removing his arms from around that slim waist.

His body screamed at his as he moved away from the lithe body pressed against his front.

"I…do you want..?" Harry questions, still not facing him. "I cannot stop you."

Boromir winced as the beauty's voice trembled a little bit.

Harry was frightened.

**He** had frightened him.

"I only want it if you want it," Boromir told the back of Harry's head.

The beauty still did not turn to face him. The Steward-prince winced as he saw his pre-cum smeared on the back of the rucked-up shirt.

"Do you want me to want it?" was the response, as Harry finally turned to face him.

Boromir was not sure how to answer. If he said 'yes' Harry might pretend to want it for the protection and luxuries afforded him as the lover of the Steward-prince. If he said 'no' he would be lying…

"You know the answer to that," the larger Man answered. "I will not touch you unless you want it as much as I do."

"Or unless you are sleeping," Harry pointed out defiantly.

"You did not wake me up," Boromir replied. "If I ever scare you like that again, I want you to hit me until I wake up."

"I was not scared," the green-eyed youth muttered. "And I would probably just hurt my hand if I tried to hit you. Between your hard head and your hard body…"

"I am sure you could find someplace soft enough to hit," the Steward-prince teased lightly.

That pulled a slight twitch of the lips from the beauty before him.

"You…you really would let me hit you if you made me…uncomfortable?" Harry questioned.

"I order you to hit me if I do so!" Boromir stated dramatically, just to see those full lips pull into a tentative smile.

Boromir's could not prevent his own smile as he looked at the beauty laying before him. Hair mused from sleep, a hesitant smile on his delicate features, pale skin contrasting with his dark shirt – Boromir wanted to wake up to this image every day for the rest of his life.

But trust would have to come before love, and Boromir needed Harry to know he was safe with him.

So the larger Man waited until Harry shifted, uncomfortablel under his intense gaze, before he offered a promise.

"I will do anything in order for you to be able to trust me," he stated seriously. "Is there anything I can do in order to convince you of this?"

Harry looked at him searchingly, as if measuring the truth in his words.

"I…can say 'no'?" the beauty asked.

Boromir nodded.

"Without consquence?" Harry persisted.

Boromir nodded again.

"And you will allow me my own sleeping quarters?" was the next question.

"If that is what you wish," the larger Man answered. "They will be ready by tonight."

"Then all I need is time," the green-eyed youth replied with another small smile.

In his happiness, Boromir wanted to capture those lips in a passionate kiss.

He held himself back.

Harry could have asked for gold or jewels or finery or horses. He could have asked to get his aunt thrown out of the castle. He could have asked to be given land and a title.

But he did not take advantage of Boromir's position as many others would have.

The least the Steward-prince could give was time.

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**Author's Note**: Ah, next chapter. It is really short, but…*shrugs* I just wanted to get this out before moving on to the next part of the plot…

**P.S.** Jukka – this is an early birthday present! You wanted Boromir/Harry - you got Boromir/Harry. I hope you like it!


	4. Family

**Title**: Keeping Heart: The Lost Tale of Boromir

**Rating: M**

**Warnings**: Sexual situations. Language.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

**Summary**: HP/LoTR Crossover. Slash. Boromir/Harry. The Steward-prince of Gondor finds his heart in the glades of his private gardens. Now he will do anything to keep Harry safe and by his side.

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Chapter 3: Family

_Minas Tirith, Kingdom of Gondor  
16__th__ of June, T.A. 3010_

"Father," Boromir greeted, stepping into the great hall. "I have a request."

"Anything, my son," Denethor stated with a smile.

"There is a servant who tends my personal gardens. I wish to have him moved to the quarters adjacent to my own," the steward-prince requested.

Denethor frowned at his son.

"Him?" he questioned.

"His name is Harry," Boromir explained.

The steward sighed.

"Boromir…it is best not to get mixed up with the servants in…that way. It gives them ideas," Denethor replied.

"How..?" Boromir trailed off.

"How do I know you want him?" the Steward of Gondor asked. "You are my son. And the infatuation is plain to see upon your face. If you wish to have him, have him. But keep your heart out of it."

"He is my heart," the younger Man murmured. "Just one look…he is so beautiful, Father, inside and out."

Denethor just shook his head at his son.

"The infatuation of youth. Lust and love are easily mixed. So move him into those quarters, have him, and get him out of your system," the steward instructed.

Boromir wanted to argue more, but he was getting what he wanted.

His father would come to see with time that what he felt for Harry was genuine love.

"Oh, and Boromir?" Denethor called before his son exited the room. "Do try to keep your affair discreet. If anyone asks, he is your personal servant, not your…lover."

Boromir nodded, accepting that instruction.

For now, anyway.

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_A few hours later…_

Harry walked into the servants' quarters to find all of his meagre belongings gone.

"What…?" he murmured to himself.

"The servants were ordered to move your things to the rooms adjacent to those of the steward-prince, boy," his aunt's shrill voice called. "Moving your way up in life…or perhaps down. I doubt you will get up off your knees or back that often…"

Harry blushed bright red.

"It is not like that," he denied, turning to leave the room.

There was nothing left for him here.

"I think that is exactly how it is, boy," Aunt Petunia smirked. "A whore, just like your mother. Will you have a bastard child as well?"

Harry clenched his jaw and kept walking.

"Does he even know about your freakish ability? Or are you going to wait until you become pregnant with his illegitimate child? Not that he will know it is his…I am sure he will whore you out to his friends, as well," his aunt called after him cruelly as he exited the servants' quarters.

Harry felt tears blur his eyes as he just kept walking.

What a family…

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**Author's Note**: Super short chapter, I know, but I am kind of consumed by Beauty of the Swan right now…Please let me know what you think. ^_^

**Reviewer Responses**:

**Jane** – Thanks for the review. Boromir/Harry is new to me, too! ^^


	5. Revelations

**Title**: Keeping Heart: The Lost Tale of Boromir

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.

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Chapter 4: Revelations

_Minas Tirith, Kingdom of Gondor  
16__th__ of June, T.A. 3010_

"Harry?" Boromir asked softly as his love burst into the room, tears streaming from those beautiful green eyes. "What is the matter?"

Harry sniffled, wiping the tears from his cheeks and turning to face him.

"I…nothing…" the beauty replied. "Just…nothing…"

"Nothing would not make you cry like this," Boromir pointed out, gently wiping the tears from that smooth skin. "What happened?"

"My…my aunt…" Harry admitted softly. "I went to the servants' quarters, and she just…"

"Shh…" the steward-prince soothed, pulling Harry into a strong embrace. "Do you wish to tell me what she did?"

"I…my mother died in childbirth," Harry stated sadly. "She managed to give me a name before she bled out. And I do not…I do not know who my father is. My aunt will never let me live it down that I am a bastard, and that she was stuck with me because my mother was a…a whore."

Boromir pushed down his rage at the pain in his love's voice.

"Do not listen to her," the larger Man instructed softly, brushing black silky hair back from that beautiful face.

"Will you…will you share me with others?" Harry questioned softly.

Boromir's hands clenched into fists.

She would be gone by dinner.

"I love you," he swore softly, not letting Harry see his anger. "And I will never let another touch you."

"I…I am a freak," Harry stated sadly, not meeting his eyes.

"Harry, look at me," Boromir instructed, raising those beautiful green eyes to meet his own. "You are not a freak. Do not listen to a word that vile woman ever said to you. She is just jealous of what a beautiful person you are, both inside and out."

Harry gave him a hesitant smile.

Boromir smiled back, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to Harry's forehead.

"Now, do you wish to see your new room?" he asked softly.

Harry nodded hesitantly, and Boromir led him to the chambers adjacent to his own room.

The steward-prince left his love to get settled, and then he walked towards the servants' quarters.

That vile woman would get what was coming to her…

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Petunia was straightening up her small room when someone began banging on her door.

"Hold on, hold on," she screeched. "What is the rush…"

The woman trailed off and paled as she came face-to-face with the Steward-Prince of Gondor.

"Excuse me," Boromir stated politely. "May I come in? I do not think you wish the other servants to hear what I am going to say to you…"

Petunia moved to the side, blankly staring as the second most powerful Man in the kingdom strode into her room.

"I…" she trailed off, uncertainly. "Would you like a seat?"

Boromir sneered at her.

"I would like to know what you were thinking when you told Harry that he was a freak and a bastard and that his mother was a whore," he questioned angrily.

"I…" Petunia scrambled for words, knowing that this Man could cast her out if he so wished. "I…"

"You…what?" Boromir mocked. "You were gifted with taking care of the most beautiful being I have ever laid eyes upon, and you decided to hurt him?"

The woman gulped audibly at the anger in the steward-prince's voice and countenance.

"My sister was a whore," she replied. "She was very beautiful, and the nobles took care of her as long as she laid with them."

Boromir glared at her fiercely.

"So you punished Harry because his mother was beautiful and did not have to work as a servant?" he asked harshly.

"He is unnatural!" Petunia screeched, her anger pouring out. "A bastard child, unnatural and...freakish. I knew it was just a matter of time before he became a whore as well. The boy is just fated to follow in his mother's footsteps."

Boromir pulled his punch at the last minute, his fist just a breath away from that ugly, shrewish face.

"You dare…" he panted, dropping his arm stiffly. "You dare…"

"He is unnatural…" Petunia whimpered fearfully. "Have you not seen?"

"Seen what?" Boromir demanded.

"His deformity," the woman stated softly. "Every time I used to have to change him as an infant…"

She trailed off and shuddered in disgust.

"What are you talking about?" Boromir asked harshly.

"He…he is _both_," Petunia replied. "The healers say that he will probably be able to _conceive_…"

"Both?" the Man questioned.

"Both male and female," Petunia clarified. "So…unnatural…"

"And the healers believe he can bear children?" Boromir questioned, shocked.

"He…bleeds…" the woman admitted.

Boromir blinked, stunned. Then a large smile spread over his face…

"This means that Father cannot object…" he whispered to himself. "Harry can bear my heirs…"

"Do you think that Gondor will accept such…freakishness from the ruling family?" Petunia questioned rudely, her jealousy guiding her.

Boromir glared at her harshly.

"Do you think that Gondor will accept another shrew on its streets?" he questioned. "You are to be out of the castle by nightfall."

"My lord…" Petunia trailed off desperately. "You cannot…I have nowhere to go!"

"You should have thought about that before making Harry cry," he stated firmly. "By nightfall…"

Petunia watched in horror as Boromir strode out of the room…

That wretched, wretched boy. It was all his fault!

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**Author's Note**: Please let me know what you think. ^_^


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